


A Blade For Her Beauty

by sahrmael



Series: Prisoners of the Divine [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 10:00:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27968717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sahrmael/pseuds/sahrmael
Summary: From the time of their first meeting, Ardyn has known that the Lady Lunafreya must die by his hand. This wretched dance in which they partake, however, has determined that her undoing will be much the same as that of the first Oracle.
Relationships: Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Ardyn Izunia
Series: Prisoners of the Divine [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031040
Kudos: 8





	A Blade For Her Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this whole thing started because of the obvious similarities between Lunafreya and Aera, and now I just ship it because I've been writing it with Honey and having too good a time on Discord. I'm perfectly fine with my choices in the matter. uwu

It is the second time in a scant three months that their entanglement has led to this. The prince scours his kingdom for the tombs of old, while the chancellor plays games with the Chosen's betrothed. It makes for quite the scandal.

He is irrevocably drawn to her if only for her startling appearance. When the Oracle was a child, he could not have anticipated this manner of change, the Astrals further mocking the damned they sought to create. She had been but a duckling trailing at his heels, determined to build a foundation upon which they might stand as equals. Ardyn had found the thought rather amusing, that a captive princess would seek even footing with the man bearing the keys to her gilded cage.

That is hardly the case now, for the Lady Oracle is anything but a child. She is wit and fire and delivers daggers in her retorts, though she bears a smile and decorum through it all. An unfavorable comparison, perhaps, but Lunafreya is every bit as serpentine as Adagium himself.

At best, she is a tease, fingers wandering into territory that they both know ought to be off limits. But she is fearless, tracing old lines in his skin with a tenderness that ties his stomach into knots. He shouldn't have let her venture this close, even with memory of both mind and body aching for a touch long deceased.

Lunafreya is everything and nothing like the chancellor's loss, and it is for this very reason that she cannot be permitted to linger upon the Star.

Even with her fingers twisted in his hair, her silken skin pressed flush against this marred vessel, Ardyn imagines how she will die. He's not yet determined if her demise will be swift or torturous, only that the end of her life will come at the point of his blade. It would be too kind to kill her as but a byproduct of some great catastrophe, too impersonal. They are ludicrously acquainted now, his name painted across her lips as he takes her with a hunger akin to that of a beast.

Blood in her hair, he thinks, might paint an intriguing scene for her beloved. He can see the stark horror on the boy's face, the sting of tears piercing a sky blue gaze as he finds her lifeless and unattainable. It excites him, and in more ways than just the one, a shudder rocking his form as the lady joins them in that moment of bliss.

As if aware of the nefarious nature of his distraction, she pulls hard on his hair, drawing Ardyn's attention and a scowl with it. The way she looks at him is almost mocking, as if to remind him that he had started all this some months ago, insisted that she not bother being gentle. That draws a smirk as he leans in to nip at her jaw, wondering if dear Noctis has any clue as to how venomous his betrothed truly is.

Lunafreya takes swift advantage of her hold on him, twisting until light blooms behind his eyes, her weight shifting to force the chancellor beneath her. For one so holy, she is a cruel little thing, tipping his head back to tease her tongue down the length of his throat.

He almost hates it, the ways in which she elects to pamper him, but she is so determined that it seems aimless to stop her. She's taken too great a liking to running her fingers over his sides, tracing raised and aching marks that only seem to still beneath her touch. It's certain that, swimming somewhere in those Cygillian blue eyes, she pities him; wishes to draw from him the nature of such wounds and why. She will have to settle for remaining ignorant, for Adagium will not dare let those cursed words pass his lips. With what has been taken from him, it seems only fair that he alone lay claim to such a secret.

She grows flush, the Oracle anything but kind as her nails bite into him, her primal need for pleasure overtaking the more rational mind. Ardyn quite likes seeing her this way, devoted to desire rather than bastard gods, dragging fingers like wire down his chest and arms. With her head thrown back and harsh cries on her lips, she appears carved of marble, the soft white expanse of her throat calling to far more than just the chancellor's teeth. But the time is not yet right for such wicked indulgences, and so Ardyn will take what he has been offered, sitting upright just enough to bite down over the lady's racing pulse, stifling his own pleasured cries of release.

It strikes like lightning in their descent, the manner in which – many months from now – she will die at his hand. Beholden to her king as though neither beauty nor beast had ever thought to become so entangled, falling on the point of his blade. The intimacy of her death may not compare to these tawdry affairs of theirs, but it will serve his purposes nicely, break the boy and hasten his Ascension.

Almost a pity, he thinks, that the Lady Lunafreya's burden is that must sacrifice her life for so foolish a little king. All the more fitting, of course, for Adagium to stake his claim now while the god's servant is ever willing.


End file.
